


The Pancake Master

by KaSaPe



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:44:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8464087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaSaPe/pseuds/KaSaPe
Summary: Lance is convinced that there is a ghost in their kitchen that makes him fail his cooking. There isn't, of course. Still, he has to prove his boyfriend that he is not a walking disaster, so he decides to make pancakes with Keith.Just fluff. A lot of fluff.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Suzzz](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Suzzz).



> Hey Suzzz, I hope you're seeing this! :D This is your requested *cough* drabble *cough* about klance cooking together. Well, if you can call pancakes cooking, that is. It's what I pretty much spend my entire day on after classes, it got kind of out of control lol. Enjoy your late birthday present :)

It was a curse. Or maybe it was a ghost that desperately wanted to get their revenge on Lance. For what though? Lance had done a lot of revenge worthy stuff in his life but so far none of these people had died. Or had they?!

“Do you really think that it’s a good idea?” Hunk piped up across from him. They were sitting at the campus’ cafeteria, just the two of them: Pidge and Keith had classes and Shiro was in the city, searching for a present for Allura. It was her birthday in two weeks but he had firmly refused their offer to help him picking something out. And Lance had more important stuff to do anyway- such as trying to figure out whether there was a malicious ghost in his kitchen.

“It’s not like I have a choice! Keith is losing all his faith in me!” Lance exclaimed agitatedly, his arms flailing in an attempt to underline the urgency of the situation. It was super urgent! His boyfriend lost faith in his ability to cook! 

Hunk just frowned at him.

“Yeah, but, like, he has a point. You’ve been living together for how long?”

Lance groaned and flopped forward, his cheek mushing against the table. It was uncomfortable and kind of sticky, but he couldn’t care less. Gods. His own boyfriend thought he was a disaster in the kitchen. 

“Two months now.”  


“Right. And how often have you guys attempted to cook together?”

“…at least ten times now,” Lance admitted. He groaned and closed his eyes. “Don’t, I know already. But it’s not normal! I swear it’s not normal, Hunk!” He lifted his head and bored his eyes into Hunk’s. “You _know_ it’s not. I can cook.”

“Well, yeah. You usually can. Truth to be told, I wasn’t sure whether I should believe Keith when he first complained about your inability to do anything that even remotely resembled cooking. But then you came along and started complaining about evil witchcraft and stuff so apparently it’s the real deal.” 

Lance frowned at Hunk’s cheery tone. Did he even understand how horrible this was? Keith thought he couldn’t cook. _Keith_. His _boyfriend_. Keith, who had actually eaten his homemade stuff countless times before and now refused to believe that it had really been his stuff. Lance was _offended_.

“It’s the kitchen! I don’t know what’s wrong with it!”

“It seems to like Keith well enough,” Hunk pointed out. Lance felt betrayed. 

“Well, maybe Keith bribed the ghost in there or something. Or maybe the kitchen ghost fell in love with him and - _oh my god_ , Hunk! I think that’s it! The kitchen ghost is in love with Keith! Of course he hates me, I’m his boyfriend! He wants us to break up!”

“That’s… I don’t think that’s it, Lance,” Hunk said. He sounded doubting and Lance pouted. Even his own best friend started to lose faith in him? 

“Then explain why this shit always happens to me! I swear, the napkins were nowhere even near the mixer when they fell in!” That day had been a dark day that Lance really didn’t want to think about. They had attempted to make a cake and it had been his job to mix the dough when suddenly the napkins landed in his bowl. Where did they even come from?! Lance didn’t remember ever seeing them before! Needless to say, there had been dough _everywhere_ and the mixer was ruined. 

And that had only been the beginning. One time Lance had attempted to heat some butter in the microwave. He had put it into a plastic cup - because what kind of plastic cups were not microwavable these days? - and the bottom part of the cup had melted within thirty seconds. It had been one hell of a mess to clean up, Keith still hadn’t quite forgiven him for that.

Another time Lance had attempted to heat the oil while Keith was on the phone with Pidge. Something about their classes. It had caught fire - _how the fuck had it caught fire?!_ \- and in his panic Lance had thrown water onto it. A bad decision, the resulting flame had set the cupboard above the stove on fire and Lance had singed half of his left eyebrow. It grew back but it was terrifying as fuck. Keith definitely _hadn’t_ been amused and he had been forbidden from touching anything in the kitchen as long as he was alone.

Not that it stopped him. Or rather, the evil ghost that hated his guts. Chopping vegetables? Lance had placed the knife on the counter, far away enough that it wasn’t any danger for him. Shouldn’t be any danger for him. But it still fell down and almost cut his little toe off. He had needed a trip to the ER and three stitches. Heating left over soup? Lance had accidentally turned the wrong stove on, setting the bread on fire. Cracking eggs? A piece of eggshell almost turned him blind!

So no, it wasn’t fun anymore. He was worried and annoyed and Keith kept him out of the kitchen unless it was time to eat.

“You’ve probably just had an unlucky two months,” Hunk attempted to console him. He patted Lance’s arm but Lance hadn’t forgiven him yet for not believing him about the ghost. Or at least supporting him in his decision to make pancakes! What kind of friend was he?!

“If I was just unlucky, then why shouldn’t I try again?” Lance challenged. Hunk winced. 

“Lance, look, I don’t really understand _how_ , but _somehow_ you are a walking disaster at the moment. Maybe you should just… wait a little to get back into the flow?”

“Get back into the flow? Hunk, we literally made tortillas yesterday at yours! It was fine! Nothing went wrong! Hell, I could even flip them over! If it’s not a ghost, then it’s a curse and I will break it. I’m not continuing living with Keith just to see him every day looking at me as if I was a walking time bomb every time I come even close to our kitchen.” Lance had made his decision. Waiting around wouldn’t help, he would simply try again. It couldn’t be that hard.

Hunk still seemed doubtful though.

“I don’t know, Lance. Does Keith agree with this?”

“He won’t have a choice but to agree. Who can resist pancakes?” he grinned. Keith couldn’t, that much he knew already. Especially not if they were _his_ pancakes. Keith might not believe him anymore that they were actually his, but Lance would show him. Before Hunk could say anything, he took his phone out and messaged Keith.

His phone was vibrating again - probably Keith pointing out his spelling mistakes, that asshole - but Lance ignored it. He had to go buy eggs for Sunday. If he had already bought them by the time Keith’s classes were over, he would have no choice but to accept his decision. Grinning smugly, he got onto his feet.

“Lance? Where are you going?!”  


“Wanna come and buy some eggs? I’m making pancakes on Sunday.”

 

* * *

 

Lance had been careful. Very, super, extremely careful. _Ultra_ careful. He had set everything aside, as far away from the stove as he possibly could - the eggs, the milk, the margarine, the flour, the cinnamon, the sugar, the salt and the baking powder. It was neatly lined up and nothing had gone wrong so far. Maybe because Keith wasn’t up yet. Maybe the ghost wanted Keith to be present before completely embarrassing Lance.

“Alright Lance, you got this. Just start with the eggs. No big deal, you’re good. Almost as good as Hunk.” He made a face at himself. “Okay, maybe not quite there yet, but soon,” he continued babbling as he carefully took up the first egg. It had a smooth surface. White, a little brown smudge at the top. Completely innocent. It definitely didn’t look like something that would try to destroy his eyeballs.

“Awesome. See? Everything is fine. Maybe the ghost moved out already. I can totally do this. I’ll surprise Keith with pancakes and then-”

“And then what?” a rough voice spoke from behind him. Lance let out a high pitched scream and almost dropped the egg.  


“Keith! Gods, do you have to do that?!” he exclaimed when he turned around to glare at his boyfriend. Keith had just gotten up, his hair was still a mess. He hadn’t even taken the time to dress himself, the only thing he wore were his boxers. Lance was tempted to throw the egg at him - if only he didn’t look this cute.

“You left. You never leave on Sunday mornings,” Keith grumbled and rubbed his arms. He had to be cold. What an idiot. Lance rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress his fond smile as he set the egg back into the card box and wrapped his arms around Keith.

“Aww, missed me already?”

“More like worried. Who’re you and what have you done to Lance? Why the fuck would you get up on Sunday at eight AM? Even I sleep until nine,” Keith replied. He didn’t hug Lance back, but that was probably because he wanted to protect his arms against the cold. They were pressed against his chest, his hands curling slightly into Lance’s sweater. 

Ah, a sleepy Keith in the mornings was adorable. If only he was always as sweet as this.

Lance pressed a short kiss against his hair. Keith hummed and leaned against him, closing his eyes.

“It was supposed to be a surprise anyway. Go back to bed, you’re sleepy.” Keith shivered. “And cold, apparently,” Lance added in afterthought. Keith didn’t react, he simply kept snuggling up against Lance. One morning he would have a camera ready and record all of this. And then he would show Keith how adorable he was next time he denied it!

“C’mon, off you go, I’m not carrying you back.” Keith gave a light snort.

“Your arms are noodles. You wouldn’t even be able to lift me.”

“Hey! I take serious offense to that! I’m plenty strong, I could even lift…”

“Yeah?” Keith asked in an amused tone. Lance was suddenly struggling to remember heavy things.

“Uh, a microwave,” he said when it was the first things his eyes landed upon. Oh well. It could have been a mixer, a microwave wasn’t the worst possible answer.

“Pretty sure I’m heavier than a microwave, Lance,” Keith laughed. Asshole.

“A _gigantic_ microwave.”  


“What kind of gigantic are we talking about?”

“Gigantic as in as big as this room!” Lance exclaimed and made a circular motion with his right arm, gesturing towards the entirety of the kitchen. The moment his arm left Keith’s skin, Lance could feel him shivering again so he quickly brought it back. Keith gratefully snuggled closer.

“And _how_ would you lift something this big?”

Eh. Keith was waking up. He was becoming less and less cute by the moment. Lance didn’t like to have the holes in his logic pointed out to him.

“I’m strong. I’d just lift it by one side, then inch my way under it and then push! And you can stand back, swooning about my biceps and gushing about what an awesome boyfriend I am.”

Keith let out a sharp laugh and pushed himself out of Lance’s arms. Lance missed his warmth already, but maybe he would finally get himself a shirt now. He’d loathe it if Keith got sick from walking around in his underwear in the middle of fall. 

“More like laugh at the pathetic Lance-pancake you’d undeniably turn into the moment Hunk lets go of the microwave.”  


Wait a minute.

“Hunk?”

“Yeah, let’s be real, you wouldn’t even be able to lift one side of it,” Keith grinned. Lance pointed at him in outrage.

“You! How dare you say stuff like that?! You’re my boyfriend, you know! You’re such an asshole!”

Keith shrugged. “My point still stands.” He shivered again and Lance took pity on him. If he wasn’t going to get a shirt on his own, then Lance would make him.

“I don’t even get why you’re this arrogant about it. We can lift the exact same amount, you know we do.”

“I do. I never said you were weak. I just said that your arms are noodles - which they are - and that you couldn’t lift me. Which you can’t.”

Lance smirked and raised an eyebrow, slowly inching towards Keith. Keith immediately became suspicious, he brought his hands up in a defensive position and tucked his elbows in. When he was finally within reach, Lance jumped forward and tackled him.

“I so can! Watch me!” And with these words he grabbed Keith around his waist, lifting him off the ground and over his shoulder. He would carry him to their bedroom and finally get him a shirt. It really wasn’t the season to walk around dressed like this.

Keith’s reaction was immediate. He let out an undignified squawk and rammed his knee into Lance’s stomach. 

_Fuck_.

Lance groaned and let go of him, his hands clutching against it. Fuck god damn _shit_. There was going to be a massive bruise tomorrow. Why had he thought this was a good idea again?

“Lance! Shit, are you okay?! I’m sorry!” 

Keith was there, lowering himself slightly to look at Lance’s face. Lance tried to force a grin but wasn’t sure whether he managed to. It sure as hell didn’t feel like one. Then again, he definitely didn’t _feel_ like smiling so Keith couldn’t exactly blame him.

“You- let go, lemme see.” Keith began to tug at his hands to get at his shirt but Lance batted him away. It wasn’t anything to be worried about. Now that the initial shock was over, he realized there probably _wouldn’t_ even be a bruise. He was fine.

“If you want a shirt get your own one,” Lance joked. He straightened himself out, suppressing a wince and kept massaging his stomach. Keith had one hell of a kick, that’s for sure. He would have to give him a warning before attempting to lift him again. 

Keith frowned. “I wasn’t trying to-”

“Also,” Lance cut him off with a smirk, “I think I just proved that I can totally lift you.”

“You dropped me,” Keith deadpanned. But no, Lance was having none of that. He had suffered fatal injuries to prove his point, the least Keith could do was accept his defeat.

“And that’s one hundred percent on you. Seriously, who knees their boyfriend in the stomach when he tries to scoop them up?”

Keith frowned. “I already said I’m sorry.” Lance couldn’t help the way his eyebrows lifted at the snappish tone. Much to his amusement Keith seemed more shocked at his words than he was. “I mean- I’m sorry. I am. I didn’t want to- You startled me-”

“Dude. It’s fine. Apology accepted. Now get yourself a shirt, I’ve had enough of your pathetic shivering,” Lance replied. Keith looked torn between arguing and following his order but finally huffed and walked away. What an idiot. Lance listened to the telltale creak of their wardrobe door, all the while still massaging his stomach. It almost didn’t hurt anymore. He had definitely learned his lesson. And he was now sure that he really didn't want to get into a serious fight with Keith - well, even more sure than before. Keith could probably kill him in less than three seconds.

Lance hadn’t been aware that he was smiling until Keith called him out on it. He now wore a long sleeved shirt, sweatpants and socks. Much better. Even if his hair was still a mess.

“What are you smiling about?”

“I’m thinking about the pancakes we are going to make!” he answered cheerily. It wasn’t quite the truth, but Keith didn’t need to know about that. 

“Really? I thought that was a joke. You can’t be serious about attempting to cook again.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Keith - not only am I serious, I can actually cook. And today I’ll prove it to you,” Lance stated, reaching out to tug Keith into the kitchen. He followed, albeit reluctantly. 

“Do we really need more accidents today? I’m not allowing you to touch the pan. Or the mixer. Or the microwave, for that matter.” Pouting, Lance crossed his arms and glared at him.  


“You just _kneed_ me in the _stomach_. Don’t you think I deserve some fun after that?” But Keith just rolled his eyes.

“A trip to the ER isn’t fun, Lance.”  


“I’m not going to the ER! Not this time anyway. I told you, today I’m proving you that I can actually cook!” Lance bristled. And no, they wouldn’t have to call the fire department either. Everything would be fine.

“Just like you proved it the last few times?”

“Forget about them! This is the only time that counts. Today I’ll prove it _for real_.” He nodded along to prove how serious he was. Super serious. Keith didn’t seem convinced, but he obviously still felt bad about hurting him, so he unwillingly agreed.

“But for the record, I’m still not letting you touch the pan. And no plastic cups in the microwave.” Lance grinned brightly and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

“Got it! I’ll start with the eggs!”  


“ _I’ll_ do the eggs,” Keith immediately cut in. Bemused, Lance allowed him to take them out of his hands and towards the sink. He was actually kind of glad that Keith took care of them, he still wasn’t entirely over that one time where the eggshell almost got into his eyes. The kitchen ghost must _really_ hate him.

“Alright, use two of them. We need to beat them fluffy. Should I start with the margarine?”

“Do you have a recipe?” Keith asked worriedly. Lance almost snapped at him that no, he didn’t have a recipe because he had done this _over a thousand times before_ , but then he remembered his series of unfortunate accidents in the kitchen. For whatever reason he had really only messed up so far. It came as no surprise that Keith didn’t trust him without a recipe. But it wouldn’t go wrong, not this time. He was confident in his ability to make pancakes. He had been the pancake _master_ at home!

“All in here,” he grinned instead and tapped against his temple. Keith shot him a doubting look but for refrained from commenting. Maybe it was because Lance had yet to actually mess up a _recipe_ , he usually just failed at the cooking part.

“Okay, fine then, just start with the margarine. And-”

“No plastic in the microwave, I got it,” Lance sighed. Keith huffed and turned his back towards him.  


“I was actually going to say ‘use a blunt knife’. But it’s good that you remember the plastic stuff.” 

Lance scowled at his back, but Keith didn’t turn around to him. Instead he calmly cracked two eggs, discarding the shells into the trashcan under the sink. What an ass. Lance would show him.

The moment he had thought this, he could hear an imaginary siren noise. Now was not the time to be competitive. Not against Keith at least. He had to show the ghost that he was an awesome cook and not even evil magic could make him fuck up pancakes. 

Directing his glare once around the entire kitchen and hoping that the ghost was intimidated now, he went to grab a (dull, yes. The trip to the ER hadn’t been much fun) knife. He carefully cut out the right amount and placed it into a tea cup, then he nudged against Keith’s shoulder. 

“What?” Keith asked warily. 

“This good?” Lance mocked. He pretended to tease Keith but he was actually kind of legitimately worried. The last thing he wanted was to make the cup explode or something. Keith gave it a quick once-over, then checked the inside of the cup - what did he expect Lance to put in there?! - and finally nodded.

“Put it in. I’d say a minute is enough.”  


“I know, I’ve done this countless times already,” Lance grumbled. He jerked at the handle to the microwave and placed the mug inside before punching the time in. The microwave had just started turning when Keith gave a short laugh.

“Yeah, sure you did.”  


“I did! You ate my pancakes like twenty times already!” Okay, he knew that Keith had a hard time believing that he was anything but useless in the kitchen, but he was slowly starting to get seriously offended. They had still been in high school when Keith had had them for the first time, Lance had brought some for his birthday. And back then he hadn’t doubted him when he had proudly declared that they were self-made! In high school! They hadn’t even dated back then!

“I’ve never seen you _make_ them, though. For all I know you could have just claimed your mother’s work as your own,” Keith teased. Lance scowled and softly butted his head against the back of Keith’s. His hair smelled nice, Lance vaguely remembered him washing it yesterday. 

“I didn’t! I can do awesome pancakes! Once they are finished you’ll regret ever having doubted my words!” Lance whined into his head. He could have stayed like this, content with just burying his nose in soft hair and smelling shampoo and _Keith_ , but then Keith turned his head to give him a light peck.

“We’ll see about that.”

“Asshole.”  


“You set our kitchen on fire. I have every reason to be doubtful of you.”

“Still an asshole,” Lance insisted. Keith raised an eyebrow and pecked him again. 

“Better?”

“Nope. Again.” He stuck his head forward and watched Keith roll his eyes but comply. 

“There. Happy now?”

“Hmm. Not really, no,” Lance grinned. He grabbed for the pot in which Keith was beating the eggs and set it aside. Keith started to protest be he had none of that: he wanted a proper kiss now. So a proper kiss he would get.

“Lance, you just said to beat them fluffy-”

“You can beat them fluffy later,” he dismissed and kissed him. Keith tried to resist at first, but Lance could tell he wasn’t serious about it. Good. He’d have to seriously work on his kissing skills if that wasn’t the case.

Keith’s arms came up around his back and he lazily moved his lips against him. They silently agreed to keep their mouths closed until they had had their pancakes - neither of them had brushed their teeth after getting up and neither of them were much of a fan of morning breath, so closed-mouthed kisses it was.

Lance could live with that.

He smiled into the kiss and pulled Keith closer against him. Keith followed the movement, seamlessly fitting himself against Lance. It was amazing how they worked that way. Just when they had gotten really comfortable, the microwave dinged. Lance groaned in protest and broke the kiss.

“Now that’s just not fair!”

“I don’t see how it isn’t. We are supposed to make pancakes after all,” Keith chuckled. What was so funny about this? The ghost seriously had something against his and Keith’s relationship.

“I’m not letting you go,” he stated. Keith made a soft noise of confusion, then Lance dragged him over to the microwave. Nope. The ghost wouldn’t win this. Keith was his and his alone and he would spend as much time with him as he wanted. 

“Lance, what are you- oh my god, let me _go_ , you big dork!” Keith complained and twisted in his arms. He was openly laughing and Lance beamed at him. No matter how often he had heard the sound, it never failed to warm his heart anew. 

“But _Keith_ \- ”

“You can get another kiss if you let me go. We need to finish these pancakes before something goes wrong,” Keith said. Lance considered the offer and reluctantly let go of him. Once Keith suggested a deal that included a kiss, it meant that he wouldn’t get any other kisses for the rest of the day if he didn’t accept. Impossible. He couldn’t live like that. He couldn’t survive that. Was his boyfriend even aware of how much power he had over him?

Lance carefully opened the door to the microwave, low-key scared of the sight that might await him. But it was nothing, just melted margarine in a cup. He let out a breath that he hadn't even been aware that he he was holding before cautiously pressing a finger against the cup. Yup, he could even touch it without burning himself! Nothing had went wrong so far. 

“You finished with the eggs?” he called out towards Keith. Keith frowned down at his bowl, then held it out for inspection. It was perfect.

“Awesome. Now we have to add the margarine and milk. Can you get the milk?”

“Are you sure it’s not expired yet?”

“ _Rude_. Do we have to make you apologize all over again?”

Keith let out a laugh, then brought the milk over next to him. Lance had concentrated on adding the margarine to the eggs without spilling anything. Miraculously he had succeeded: he might actually do this today. Pfft, no, what was he thinking? He could _totally_ do this today. He would show Keith that his pancakes were to die for and he would have no choice but to take everything back he had said about taking credit for his mom’s cooking!

“How much?” Keith’s voice sounded from his left. He had opened the milk and tipped it, ready to let it flow into the bowl. Lance shot him a scandalized look.

“You can’t just pour it in there! You have to measure it! Here, one and a half cups,” he said, urgently pressing the now empty margarine cup into Keith’s other hand. He was pretty sure that Keith had rolled his eyes but he complied. With exaggerated motions Keith filled the milk into the cup, then poured it into the bowl. 

“Happy now?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“Hmm,” Lance pretended to think, tapping his finger against his chin. Then he smirked. “Almost. You didn’t fulfill your deal yet,” Lance reminded him smugly. Keith seemed confused for a moment, then the slightest trace of a blush appeared on his cheeks. Before Lance could remark on that, Keith had already pressed his lips against Lance’s.

“Happy _now?”_ he repeated his question. Lance resisted the urge to hug him and tousle his hair. Even when he was annoyed he was still the most attractive human being he had ever lain eyes on.

“Yeah, yeah, you big grump. Man, it’s so hard to get some love these days,” Lance sighed dramatically, making grabby hands at the flour. It was handed to him without a comment. He measured the correct amount in the cup, then dumped it into the bowl all at once. A lot of it came flying back up and Keith coughed, trying and failing to fan it away from him. A fine layer of flour coated his hair, almost letting it seem as if it sparkled. 

“What the- I _do_ love you Lance, but when you do stuff like this it gets really hard to remember why.”

Lance hardly even listened past the first part, he beamed at him.

“Say that again!”  


“I have a hard time remembering why I love you,” Keith grumbled, finally giving up on getting the flour out of the air. Lance pouted and reached for his bangs, ruffling them and making the fine white shimmer disappear. 

“No, come on, that other thing!”

“I literally said nothing else!”

“You said you love me!” Lance whined and let go of Keith’s hair. It fell back into his eyes, now even messier than before. Oh well, it looked kind of cute like this.

“Yes, Lance, I love you. You are my boyfriend. I moved in with you. I’m even letting you touch my- for god’s sake, that’s enough now!” Lance had reached for Keith’s hair again, trying to get rid of another speck flour further at the back. But Keith apparently had enough. Killjoy. 

“Why are you so grumpy?”

“Honestly? I’m worried you’ll turn on the stove. Flour explosions are not pretty. A fire could kill us both now,” Keith spoke. Despite his harsh words, he gave up most of his defensive posture when he looked at Lance’s face. A small grin appeared instead.

“What? What is it?! And I totally know that was an exaggeration, we would need a lot more flour than that. Hunk actually filled me in on the topic before allowing me to make pancakes,” Lance babbled. He stopped talking when Keith reached out for his face and brushed over his cheeks. A little confused, he blinked at him.

“Flour,” Keith offered as an explanation. Lance held his hand in place and turned his head to plant a kiss against his palm. A tiny honest smile snuck itself onto his face before he transformed it into a grin.  


“Why, thank you, my knight in shining armour, I wouldn’t have survived the day without you!”

“Knight in shining armour? Nothing here is shiny anymore thanks to you,” Keith answered, still grinning. His right hand came up to grab the other side of Lance’s face and he pulled him forward, planting a kiss against his head. “You’re an idiot. But I still love you.”

“You’re the idiot!” Lance immediately shot back. He ignored Keith’s ‘and why’s that?’ in favor of planting his own kiss on Keith’s forehead. “But I love you too.”

“Cool. Now that that’s settled, let’s get back to the pancakes?”

“Fiiiiiiine,” Lance dragged out. He wasn’t upset though. Not at all. He loved Keith and he loved pancakes and soon he’d be able to be around the two of them at once. It was like the ultimate success.

They continued making the dough, mixing the salt, sugar, baking powder and cinnamon into it. Everything went so smoothly that Keith physically pushed him to sit back on a chair when it came to heating the pan and actually making the pancakes. Lance pretended to resist a bit but he didn’t really mind. He was kind of amazed himself that nothing had gone wrong yet and he wasn’t about to ruin that.

So instead, he busied himself with watching his boyfriend making pancakes. Keith had his brows furrowed ever so slightly as he always had when he concentrated hard on something. A warm feeling spread through Lance when he realized how good he had gotten at reading him. What he had previously thought was a perpetual scowl, was in reality a vast array of different emotions, such as annoyance, tiredness, concentration and confusion. Keith’s emotions were the easiest to recognize in the set of his eyebrows, but in actuality his whole body was a free explanation. Whatever he felt, his whole posture mirrored it. Lance had just taken a long time before he had learned to read it.

“You finished? I’m getting hungry here,” he complained. Keith turned his head to glare at him.

“I literally just started with this.”  


“Yeah, but they smell really good and I’m dying to eat them.” Just to make his point clear, he placed his hands over his stomach and gave Keith his best puppy eyes look. Apparently his boyfriend wasn’t impressed.

“Don’t give me that look. I can’t finish them any faster and you know it. Besides-” Suddenly a loud growl filled the kitchen and Keith embarrassedly snapped his mouth shut. He turned away to hide his blush but Lance had already started laughing.

“Oh my god! Keith! One would think you were _starving!_ We had pizza for dinner yesterday, you _can’t_ be that hungry!”  


“I’m not!” Keith hurriedly cut in. “They just smell really good!”

Lance’s obnoxious laughter dimmed down to a more genuine one and he got up to wrap his arms around Keith’s waist, leaning his head against him. Keith sighed but relaxed back into the embrace, apparently thinking that Lance would let him get away easy this time.

Well, he was wrong.

“I know they do, I’ve been making them for years after all. But you were seriously loud right now, are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we should make another batch, just for you.”

“Lance.”

“-or we could order two pizzas next time, I can’t have my boyfriend starving after all. Mom would kill me. Maybe we could invite Hunk for lunch, you know that he always brings-”

“Oh my god, Lance, shut up already!” Keith exclaimed and threw his arms out. Lance grinned smugly and pulled him closer against his chest.

“Not a chance. You see, you’ve been so against me making these, I need to get my revenge somehow.”

“I wasn’t- listen, I was _worried_ , asshole! Your accidents brought us to the ER!”

“Suuuuure you were worried. Just worried, right? You resisting me making pancakes definitely hadn’t had anything to do with the fact that it proves once and for all that I am a much better cook than you.”

“That- what?! Lance, you are not even making any sense anymore-”

“Oops, careful with that,” Lance said and caught Keith’s arm with the spatula. During their exchange it had almost ended up in his face. Keith immediately lowered his arm again, not wanting to accidentally hurt him. Lance grinned lopsidedly and pressed a kiss against his head. He was a sweetheart. Then his eyes fell onto the pancake.

“You need to flip that one now. Or it’ll burn and we’ll have wasted some perfectly good food.” As if on cue, Keith’s stomach growled again. Lance could feel the laughter bubbling up in his chest but Keith lightly kicked against his shin before he could let it out.

“Don’t. Say. Anything,” he hissed while he flipped the pancake over. It looked perfect, Lance could feel the salvia gathering in his mouth.

“I’m perfectly innocent, I didn’t do anything,” Lance claimed. Keith let out a snort.

“Yeah, right. Sure you are.”

“I am! Really, I’m a very honest and open guy! I have nothing to hide! See, my name is Lance, I’m twenty-one years old, I have a boyfriend named Keith that I love _almost_ as much as pancakes-”

“Enough. Get me a plate, asshole,” Keith ordered as he dragged the bowl with the pancake mix closer to the pan. Lance complied, reluctantly letting go of him to get them a plate. One would be enough, he figured - he was hungry, Keith was _definitely_ hungry too, and he didn’t have enough patience to wait for the entire bowl to finish. They could just share the pancakes while simultaneously making new ones.

Once Keith had put the pancake aside, Lance grabbed a fork and began to cut it up. Fuck toppings, he would got some for the one after this one. For now he just wanted to eat.

“Open your mouth, Keith,” he chirped.

“Wha-” Lance didn’t even let him finish speaking, he just shoved the piece of pancake right into his mouth. Keith blinked confusedly, then began to chew when Lance pulled the fork back. His eyes widened slightly and Lance smirked in triumph.

“Believe me now?” he asked smugly as he chose a piece of pancake for himself. As perfect as always. Genius. He knew it, pancakes were the one thing that would never let him down. He wasn’t the pancake master for no reason.

“They’re good,” Keith admitted reluctantly. Lance laughed and threw an arm over his shoulders as he brought a new piece to Keith’s mouth. He eagerly accepted it and Lance lightly bumped his hips against him.

“No need to be shy. I know you love them,” he sing-songed. Keith kept silent until he had finished his food.

“Nah. I love _you_.”

Lance froze dead on his way to get some more pancake for himself. Did Keith just- ?! He turned his head to look at him and saw Keith’s smug expression.

Oh my god.

Keith would _kill_ him.

Letting the fork drop onto the counter, Lance scooped him up in his arms. “I love you too!” he exclaimed, nuzzling his head against Keith’s neck. God. Fuck. Who had allowed his boyfriend to be this cute?! He was such an asshole and then - then he wasn’t. It wasn’t fair. He would kill Lance.

“I will love you a little less if you keep breaking every bone in my body,” Keith said in a choked tone. Lance just laughed, not letting up one bit.

“Only a little?”

“I guess. You kinda grew on me, it’s hard to imagine my life without you.” Lance could have sworn he was only seconds away from forgetting how to breathe when Keith added: “The kitchen would be so much safer again. I wonder what it’s like to live in a house without having to enter a possible war zone multiple times a day.”

“Hey! I made you pancakes, didn’t I?!” Lance complained as he retracted his arms. Keith was wearing that private little smile again that meant that he was thoroughly content. It was hard to stay angry at him like this, that little shit.

“I guess you did. Although I’m the one that actually makes them, you know.”  


“Only because you won’t allow me to touch the pan!”

“Yeah. And look where that brought us: we are both still alive! Horrendous, I should be ashamed of myself.”

“You _asshole_ ,” Lance breathed out, but he couldn’t suppress his laughter anymore. He saw Keith’s shoulders shaking too, which meant that Keith was keeping his laughter to himself. Alright, fine, the meal wasn’t over yet - Lance would get him to laugh again. 

That is, if Keith didn’t kill him beforehand. 

God. He loved this asshole.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ~~for everyone that also read magic me some love: yes I was definitely laughing whenever I was writing about Lance suspecting evil magic and thinking about "breaking a curse" :'D I'm awful~~
> 
>  
> 
> Also guys. The stuff that Lance mentioned happened. Or well, at least the plastic cup in the microwave one. The napkins in the mixer? Reality was more cruel, in reality it was my hair. Thankfully I was smart enough to pull the plug when it happened to me, so no harm done. I just... spent a long time in the shower that day *dramatic flashbacks*
> 
> So yeah, I am a disaster in the kitchen. Sorry Lance for projecting that onto you :P But hey, his unfortunate accidents have stopped now, everything is fine.
> 
> The recipe I loosely based this on can be found [here](http://www.food.com/recipe/pancakes-25690). Nope, I never tried it out. I just googled a pancake recipe and chose this one^^' 
> 
> Come talk to me at [keiths-stupid-mullet.tumblr.com](http://keiths-stupid-mullet.tumblr.com/)! I love making new friends!! :D


End file.
